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Marking My Horizon

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Let me be kind in word or deed,
Castles built in Spain
Set a seal upon my lips,
With platitudes of pain.

I have closed the door on doubt,
That is forever gone
I will go by what light I find,
That marked my horizon.

Who creates shall sustain-
Stamp the dust beside the oak,
I felt the power that thrills
In a mudhole I lie and soak.

I bare my burning pain
Home canned, pork and beans,
I wear no hiding mask,
And conjure rich and rare cuisines.

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